Degenerates
by Guessworks
Summary: Formerly known as The Deep End. Everything starts when Meta Knight witnesses a murder. Soon after, the quiet man finds himself entangled in a plot that threatens to collapse his entire world... For Modacelimazing42's contest. Rating is subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

It is dark.

The glow of the moon gently illuminates the worn brick buildings and the clean cut grass. I stare up at the vast, inky black sky; thousands of glistening stars glance down at me. They whisper secrets to me through the leaves on the trees, their breath cold on my cheeks. Absent-mindedly I dig my nails into the old wood of the bench I am resting on. With a quiet sigh of comfort, I close my eyes.

Suddenly, a muted whimper echoes throughout the otherwise silent courtyard, followed by the sound of a body crashing into the dirt. A shadow looms over the stunned victim, brandishing a gun and a vicious snarl. I cannot make out who the attacker is. Quietly I climb off of the bench and blend into the shadows behind it, watching the two figures from my hiding place.

The attacker pulls the trigger, and the victim jolts once then goes still. The shadow bends down to take a pulse, then quickly looks around. Seeming satisfied, it comes towards my bench and leans over.

"Hello," she says, her clear blue eyes turned navy in the darkness. "And you are...?"

I narrow my eyes at her. I can't tell who she is, though the voice is familiar. She obviously doesn't recognize me either.

"Leaving." I stand up and move around the bench. She turns and faces me, her face still muddled by the lack of light. The woman is about five feet six inches, a bit shorter than me. Her hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail, two strands framing her angular face. She doesn't say anything as I walk away. Though just as I am about to disappear around the corner, she speaks up.

"Good night, Meta."

-

**A/N: For "The Contest For Those We've Left Behind". I know it's ridiculously short, sorry -.- I just needed to get this up so I can be included in the road call. The next chapter should be uploaded soon!** **Oh, and all characters are humanized, for the sake of continuity. **


	2. Chapter 2

"She only comes to me in my dreams,  
>So sleep becomes addicting;<br>It's not healthy, it's what makes you right..."

* * *

><p>"Hey! Meta!"<p>

I look up from my book to find a face just centimeters away from my own. Huge baby blue eyes peer at me behind curled eyelashes. Long and wavy blonde hair brushes my wrists as the girl smiles. She smells like bubble gum.

"Hi," I say simply, looking back down. The twenty year-old pouts in dissatisfaction, grabbing my chin with her hand and forcing my gaze back up. In her other hand she brandishes a camera.

Her name is Peach. A petite girl with an iron will and a hard punch. She's one quarter spoiled rich kid, one quarter motherly, one quarter pushy, and one quarter kind. She's also very inquisitive, not to mention the head photograph for the school journal. It's hard not to suspect her for the murder I witnessed; she can have a very short temper and isn't afraid to fight.

"Meta, please let me take pictures." Peach tries to look cute.

"You know my answer." I close my book, being careful to memorize the page number. Getting annoyed, the girl leans back and snorts. A taller figure steps in next to her and places a hand on her shoulder. Long green hair is pulled up in a tight ponytail, while emerald eyes glance tiredly at the blonde.

"It's no use, Peach. His answer is always the same." Lyn says, looking rather bored.

"But he's become sort of an icon for this school! Since he was a freshman he's been sitting under the cherry blossom every

day reading. Everyone knows him! He's like our unofficial mascot! I just need one picture for next year's brochure." The photograph whines, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"You can badger him later!" Lyn exclaims, tugging at the sleeve of Peach's pink t-shirt. "Have you heard of what happened?"

"Of course I have!" The petite woman huffed, "What kind of journalist would I be if I hadn't?"

Now I am interested.

"Heard of what?" I inquire, glancing up curiously at the two females.

"Someone was murdered. Just a couple of feet away from your bench too!" The green-haired athlete replies, "there are no suspects yet. Or leads, for that matter. I'm just surprised they're letting the school stay open."

"Yeah, I heard it was some freshman. Poor kid," the blonde interjects.

Before I can say anything else, Peach grabs her friend's arm viciously, her gaze trained behind her. She whispers something harsh to Lyn before both of them walk away hurriedly. Confused, I search the campus for any sign of something unusual; I cannot spot anything.

And so I return to my book.

* * *

><p>A single beam of moonlight filters into my room and rests on my cheek. For the umpteenth time I sigh and roll over. Just yesterday night I witnessed someone I know but didn't quite recognize murder a student. She spared my life. She should have gotten rid of me, but she didn't, and that is why I haven't gone to the police. It feels like something bad will happen if I do.<p>

In my head, the scene repeats itself. Her voice, her demeanor, just her in general, everything digs into my skin... With a sigh I kick off all of my covers and hop out of bed. From my tiny dorm window, I have a perfect view of the university courtyard. The bench I usually rest on sits just underneath a tree, facing away from me. The clouds shift, illuminating my usual seat and revealing a figure perched upon it.

I don't have to double-check, I know; it's her.

Adrenaline pumps through my suddenly alert veins as I scramble around my cramped room. I pull on a pair of jeans before running out into the hallway and down the stairs. I race outside. She hears the door close and glances back, acknowledging me with a slight nod. The girl leans back and peers through the leaves of the tree shielding her from the heavens.

"The skies are beautiful tonight," she breathes, her voice soft and melodious.

I finally stop three feet away from her and double over, panting. There is a light breeze that brushes my bare chest and I shiver. I curl my toes in the fresh, dew-coated grass. The stars illuminate each blade of dark green, making the garden look like a bed of diamonds. My throat is dry.

"Why didn't you..." I pause to take in a gasp of air. "Why didn't you kill me?"

The blonde stays silent for a long moment, her back still facing me. She is so quiet that for a second I believe she has fallen asleep; just as I am about to ask again, however, she replies.

"For a number of reasons. There is something different about you, Meta. It draws me in."

Finally she turns around, though I still cannot see who she is. She conceals her features in the darkness and avoids my gaze.

"Who are you?" I whisper, still bent over.

Her eyes meet mine. She holds my gaze for what seems like hours, even though only ten seconds have passed. I find answers hidden in her brilliant blue stare.

"You already know." She whispers back. Hesitantly she holds out a hand. Slowly I reach out and grab it. Her hand is soft and delicate; it fits perfectly in mine.

"There is a lot of explaining to be done, Jennifer." I clear my throat.

"Oh, I'm aware. Just not today." The girl slips her hand out of mine. "I'm going to bed."

Quietly, she stands and makes her way back to her dorm.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alright, now that I'm back from vacation I'll be updating every two days or so, so expect a lot more plot developpement from now on xD**

**Jennifer is **_**not **_**an OC; she's Jigglypuff (JP= Jennifer Petersen).**

**The snippet of lyrics is from **_**The Deep End**_** by Scary Kids Scaring Kids.**

**Read & Review! **


	3. Chapter 3

She sits on the edge of the fountain, staring off into the distance. Her pale blonde and pink hair is blown around, occasionally covering her rounded face. Her hands are wrapped in bright woolen fingerless gloves. She pulls the light jacket she wears tighter around her lithe frame, shivering at the cold breeze.

Today the sky is grey and the earth is begging for rain. The earliest of fall leaves are strewn around the courtyard, dotting the green with yellow and red. I walk slowly, a paper cup clutched in each hand. They emanate warmth. With a deliberately slow pace I approach Jennifer. Today she will answer my questions and satisfy my curiosity.

Quietly I sit next to her; gently I brush her arm with my hand. Startled, she jumps and whips her head around, tickling my nose with her hair. She smells like bubble gum. Before she has the chance to speak, I hand out the cup I held in my right hand. Her lips part in a small "o" as she clings to it. She brings the drink up to her faces and inhales it's delicious scent, her crystalline eyes closed.

"Thank you," she murmurs before pressing the cup to her lips and taking a sip.

For another moment we sit, enjoying our drinks.

"Aren't you cold?" Her voice is concerned, and her bright cerulean eyes look like endless pools.

"No." I say simply, thought goosebumps run up my bare arms.

She sighs and focuses on her hot chocolate, her tiny fingers tightening around the paper. Seeming to forget my presence, she begins to sing; her voice is clear in the emptyness of the gardens.

"Just stop and take a breath, suck in the stench of death. Just got the numbers back; we hope they all died right on impact..." She sighs and stops singing, then turns to me. "Promise not to tell."

"I promise." My voice is barely a whisper, carried through the air by the wind.

She turns to look at me. Her insanely blue eyes pierce mine.

"I trust you." She whispers back, clutching her beverage. She takes a deep breath.

"Have you ever heard of S.M.A.S.H.?" I shake my head. "It is an organization, hidden in the shadows of society. I am one of it's members. I was approached at the age of fifteen by a boy I went to school with; his name was Ness. He told me I was different, and that I intrigued him. One day, I witnessed him killing someone and confronted him, much like you did with me. He explained very little.

"I can't tell you much more about how I joined, but I was welcomed. I was- and am- indeed very different." She pauses to take a sip of her hot chocolate.

"What is S.M.A.S.H.?" I ask, causing a small smile to form on Jennifer's rosy cheeks.

"It's a lot of things," she states with a small laugh. "But mainly, we kill people for cash."

I am suprised by how simply she states the fact that she is a paid assassin. A smirk graces her features as she quietly consumes her drink. The wind picks up, blowing her hair towards me. The one pink streak stands out brilliantly among her strawberry blonde hair. The bright salmon colour shines somewhat unnaturally, making the rest of her head look dull in comparison.

"If he chooses you, you will find out more in time."

Before I can ask what she means, she stands.

"I hope he does. I really like you."

With one final, bubbly smile, she leaves.

* * *

><p><em>The rain pounds against my bare back like a thousand iron spikes piercing my skin. The roar of constant thunder deafens me as lighting flashes around me. My feet scrape against the pavement as I run; my lungs ache for a breath. I lost sight of my target long ago, but I know it is still in front of me. I can feel its unnatural presence.<em>

_A raw scream of frustration echoes through my body, though it is muted by the water. I drop to my knees, exhaustion pulling my entire being down. My fingers curl on the wet street, scraping the skin off. Spasms rack my sodden frame as I breathe heavily._

_Suddenly there is a sharp pain in the center of my spine. I scream, the force of the agony pressing me against the pavement. I continue to scream as it makes its way up my back and into my brain. My head pounds violently, as if a wild creature is trapped deep inside of my mind and is longing to come out. With a final shriek, I lose consciousness._

* * *

><p>My eyes shoot open, the harsh reality of my nightmare forcing me awake. I pant, staring at my bloody fingers. Crimson drips from my shredded skin, staining my sheets. A muted whimper escapes my raw throat.<p>

A thump against my window startles me. A storm rages on outside, loud and violent, though that is not what produced the sound; a worn enveloppe is pinned against the pane of glass by the furious wind. Curious, I ignore my hands and make my way to the latch. With a grunt of pain I push open the window, causing the paper to be blown in with incredible force.

The sodden mail hits my wall before falling to the floor. Being careful not to get blood on the glass, I close the window again and slowly walk to the bathroom. I turn on the tap and let the freezing water dissolve the clotted red mess on my fingertips. With a sigh of comfort, I close the tap and dry my hand on a nearby towel.

Once I get back into my room, I pick up the enveloppe. It reads my name is cursive black ink and only slightly damp. Without hesitation I carefully rip it open, exposing the paper inside. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes scan over the letters.

"Welcome to S.M.A.S.H."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I seriously think I have bitten off way more than I can chew with this story. I seriously doubt it will be finished by the deadline, but I will try :)**

**The song JP sings is Bulletproof by Scary Kids Scaring kids. For full effect, listen to the song while reading.**

**One final thing; sorry for the late update! It was my birthday a couple days ago, and I was away celebrating. Otherwise, read, review and enjoy!**


	4. Chapter 4

"I want to live to tell the tale; I want to wake up before my ship sets sail. Don't want to try and be anyone else, I want to try and find myself..." Set Sail- Scary Kids Scaring Kids

* * *

><p>I am back on the endless road.<p>

This time, there is no storm. The air is still, yet I am crumpled on the pavement, gasping for breath. The pounding in my head has returned; it has intensified tenfold. A loud grinding noise rings out in my brain, forcing my hands over my ears in a vain attempt at relief.

Suddenly, long metal claws graze the asphalt, showering sparks on my cowering figure. Large, leathery bat wings brush again my cheek as the creature turns to face me. Its skin is a deep purple, with glowing amber eyes that light up the dreary landscape. It has a toned and slender figure, much like a feline's, althought it is a bit short; the violet being is no taller than my waist. It stands on its powerful back legs. I stand in awe as the mouthless head of the beast tilts to the side.

It reaches towards me, its hand long and bony with white iron spikes protruding where the claws would be. The cold metal brushes my cheek, piercing the skin and producing a small scarlet drop.

_Blood brother_

I flinch at the words. They seem to force their way from the inside of my brain, screeching like the sound of metal on metal. Its eyes meet mine.

"What are you?" My voice shakes despite my very best efforts.

_I am you_

The creature takes a step closer to me. It presses its warm hand against my cold chest, right on my heart.

_I am your heart_

My breath quickens as its claws trace their way up my neck as the creature rests its hand on my head.

_I am your soul_

It backs away and lays down, its arm neatly tucked under its chest like a cat. The being's large wings fold on its back, creating the illusion of a large brown carapace.

_I am your guide_

Minutes go by as I wait silently, wondering if it will add anything else to the list of things it is. The only sign on life it gives me is a slow blink. With a start I realise that my headache has gone, and quickly realise the origin of the creature.

"What is your name?"

This time, my enquiry is strong.

_Galactica_

Galactica closes his eyes, shifting a little. Slowly he peels his right eye open, mesmerizing me with its gentle glow.

"What are you here to guide me through?"

Galactica seems to perk up as I finish voicing my question. His lean muscles ripple under his leathery pelt as he stands. A slight breeze blows my hair back as the beast unfolds his majestic wings.

_Yourself_

* * *

><p>The second enveloppe comes a week later as the sun rises. I walk across the courtyard when a sudden gust of wind blows it through the air and gently lays it at my feet. It is the same as the first, although less damp; white and nondescript, with my name in black cursive. Meta Knight. A mix of curiosity and dread courses through me as I gently rip the top and pull out the paper. My amber eyes scan over the plain script, soaking in every word.<p>

"_Last Name: Knight  
>First Name: Meta<br>Spirit: Galactica  
>Weapon: Galaxia<br>Training: N/A  
>Special: Wings, Shadows<br>Body Count: N/A_"

My fingers crush the edges of the paper in confusion. Weapon? Wings? Shadows? Galaxia? Frustrated, I jam the letter in my pocket and make my way to my precious bench. How would they even know about the mysterious creature who visits me in my dreams?

Silently I walk, my footsteps muffled by the grass. The occasionnal red leaf tumbles by, urged on by a gentle breeze that ruffles my chocolate brown hair. The pink sun peeks through sparse clouds; it is going to be a very long day.

* * *

><p>There is no moon tonight. The sky is blank save for the occasional star, leaving the alley I am hidden in shrouded in complete darkness. I am far from my university's campus. Actually, I am across the city, on a small street with quaint and worn-down houses. Now I stand concealed in the shadows of house number fourteen.<p>

Quietly I test the window nearest me. To my pleasant suprise it is broken and easily lifts up with little trouble. I steady my arms on the sill and push up with my legs, managing to get my right foot up. Clumsily I swivel and slide my lower body in, my bare feet silently sinking into plush carpet. My upper body goes in just as easily.

"_I've grown tired..._" The television is on in the room adjacent to the one I stand in, casting a faint blue light at the door frame.

Nervously I clutch my gun as I make my way into the living room. My target is there, on the couch. He is peacefully curled under a blanket, his innocent face peaceful. There are a thousand thoughts going through my head and they are jumbled and confused, though two ring clear: _My god, I know him. There's no way I'm about to kill him..._

"_I think I'm ready for a change._"

His name is Pit. He was a year below me in high school; he now goes to the community college in town. I remember him because he has the palest blue eyes I have ever seen. To me the boy always seemed surreal, like he was floating. Much like Jennifer, actually; he was a lot like her when I knew him.

I walk towards him, trying not to make any noise. Bile makes its way up my throat but I choke it down with a quiet, tearless sob. I kneel, my knees dropping with a muted thud onto the dirty carpet. My hands shake as I press the cold barrel to his forehead through his thick brown hair. Under my breath I count down, trying to steady my heart. At zero, I shoot.

_Ten, nine, eight..._

A tired moan escapes his lips. _Don't wake up. Please don't wake up._

_Seven, six, five..._

He stirs, a small hand escaping the security of the duvet covering him.

_Four, three, two..._

His eyelids flutter open, and his hauntingly pale blue eyes lock onto mine.

"Wha?" He sleepily mumbles, blinking again.

_One._

My finger tightens on the trigger. I keep my face set in a stone cold expression as an explosion of blood comes out the back of his head, staining the couch he rests on scarlet. I am on my feet and running through his house the second after the shot is fired. I climb out the window and slam it shut, then run off into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I regret to say this isn't going to be finished in time. I am not stopping the story, nor am I pulling out of the contest (although I understand I will not win with an unfinished story). I wish I would have had the time to finish before the deadline, but unfortunately it is what it is.**

**I'd like to thank the judges for The Contest For Those We've Left Behind for giving me the inspiration it took to start and pursue this.**

**Till next chapter,**

**-Guessworks**


	5. Chapter 5

"We've been waiting for this moment all our lives, this is nothing short of predictable." Degenerates- Scary Kids Scaring Kids

* * *

><p>"So, you're one of us now."<p>

The girl blinks, temporarily hiding her cerulean eyes. She sips at the small paper cup clutched between her tiny fingers, sighing in comfort. She puts the cup down and licks her lips, then glances at me. The small smile that always graces her rounded face stretches into a healthy grin.

"I knew he'd choose you, I could feel it. Well actually, Jigglypuff told me. But she's me, so same thing." Jennifer giggles lightly, then meets my amber gaze.

"She's your... spirit, right?" I ask, still somewhat stunned from all that has been happening lately.

"Yep." Jennifer chips cheerily, taking another sip from her hot chocolate.

Quietly I think about the recent turn of events. A little over a month ago, I met Jennifer. A month ago, I got my first letter. After that, I got two letters a week, without fail. Every week, I took the life of two people. Every night I got sent to my "road to destiny" (as Galactica put it). In each of these nightmares I saw myself as Galactica. It feels surreal.

All of this would not have happened if I hadn't witnessed that murder. Sometimes I regret seeking the blonde girl out; sometimes I wish I had stayed in my dorm and simply watched her from the window, though I know that deep down I couldn't have. I would have never forgiven myself if I had not met Jennifer.

I glance at her and find her staring at me. Embarrassed, I quickly look away. I nervously hold my breath as I feel her warm fingers entertwine with mine and her lips press against my blushing cheek.

"Oh Meta, smile. It would do wonders for you."

Again I look at her. This time, the hint of a smile plays on my cracked lips. As her blue eyes connect with my gaze, it grows into a grin.

"That's better."

* * *

><p>The newest letter waited on my pillow.<p>

The enveloppe was just like the others, blank with my name is cursive. That day, however, it's contents were different. A personal letter made out to me instead of the usual face, the usual name, the usual address. It greeted me formally as I tore open the white stationnery.

And it is because of that letter that I now stand in front of a grand manor, garbed in a sharp black suit. Jennifer stands next to me in a slinky black dress that is quite out of character for her. Her usual smile is wiped away in favor of a serious scowl, although it soon comes back once she notices me looking. She tightens her grip on my hand with a smirk.

"You look striking," she whispers, blinking slowly. "Your black suit and hair really contrast with your eyes..."

I don't reply, instead choosing to ring the bell. The door opens to reveal a gruff man in a suit similar to mine. He sports a stubble and a cigar between his scarred lips.

"Jennifer." He dips his head in her direction.

"Snake." Her voice is pleasant. "This is Meta."

The man looks at me, sizing me up. Seemingly satisfied, he extends a calloused hand. With a stoic expression, I take it.

"Pleased to meet you." The man steps aside, letting us enter.

"Likewise." I nod at him before entering the majestic lobby.

The room is huge. Approximately fifty people mingle under the ethereal light of the gigantic crystal chandelier. Jen squeezes my hand, looking around.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" She whispers, looking up at me.

"Yeah." I scan the faces of those present and find no one I recognize until Jennifer points them out.

"Peach and Lyn are over there."

She points a delicate finger in the direction of a small group, most of whom are female. Suddenly a head of blonde hair twists to look in our direction. I recognize the warm smile of "Princess" Peach as it fades into a snarl at the sight of the small girl clutching my hand.

Then there is a scream and everything goes black.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Short chapter is short! :/ Sorry bout that. **

**As much as I appreciate the deadline extension (I really do) this story is just gonna be too long to finish in that time. I really did bite off way more than I can chew.**

**Till next chapter!**

**~Guessworks**


	6. Chapter 6

Jennifer gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't be afraid," she whispers, her breath warm against my ear.

The lights go back on almost immediately to reveal a tall man with long white hair and an odd asymetric suit. Standing at the top of the stairway, he raises his white gloved hands.

"Welcome, my knights!" He bellows, tilting his chin upwards.

Jennifer tugs at my arm and kneels. I follow suit as the man jovially skips down a few stairs. In one fluid movement the crowd rises.

"Hello, Master." I watch my companion's candy pink lips move in time with the others. She glances at me as the man lets out a laugh of content.

"Ah, my knights, I am deeply sorry for summoning you on such short notice, but I have someone I'd like to introduce you to, as well as some important announcements." The man grinned. "Meta, please come and join me."

My breath catches in my throat as Jennifer lets her fingers slip out of mine. Unfamiliar faces turn to stare at me. With a blank expression I make my way through the crowd and ascend the first few steps. As I stand next to "Master", he puts his arm around my shoulders.

"Knights, this is my newest protégé, Meta. He is a second year student at the Eastford University."

I watch with mild fascination as the group of assassins simultaneously places a hand on their heart.

"Welcome, Knight Meta," they speak, bowing their heads. Master smiles.

"He is an excellent assassin and a valuable addition to our team. Now, onto the announcement," he says, suddenly serious. "They have declared war."

The room explodes with voices. People turn to each other and cry out with rage. Master just stands and surveils the formally dressed crowd as it becomes increasingly agitated. He glances at me and gives a small smile.

"Hush now," Master cries, lifting his hands reassuringly. "We will go to war. They will not win. Unfortunately this means I will have to ask those of you who do not live in this town to stay here. I have no problem lending you rooms. Those who do live in this town can continue living where they did before, though I doubt you will have any time to yourself.

"This enemy cannot be handled in the way that we usually handle our targets. Our spirits usually guide us; now they will fight alongside us. They are not to be underestimated. But do not let fear grow in your hearts, for we are stronger than most! We will not go down if the enemy is not dead. We will prepare for the first attack. Tomorrow, they will forever regret choosing to oppose us. S.M.A.S.H. will be victorious!" He paused for a moment.

"The fight begins at dawn!"

* * *

><p>"Who are we fighting?"<p>

I tighten my grip around the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. Jennifer looks at me from the passenger seat.

"The rival assassin group in the area, created by Master's brother. Tension's been high for awhile." Her sentence is punctuated by a yawn.

It is four in the morning, three hours before sunrise. Quietly I direct the small car to an abandoned parking lot and turn the key, effectively stopping the engine. Jen lifts a delicate hand to her ear and presses on her headset.

"Team four check," she confirmed into her microphone. "Awaiting further instruction."

There is a crackling on the other line and a faint command to stay and wait for now.

"This is kind of sudden," I whisper, staring at my hands. I've barely been assassinating for two weeks and already I am thrust in a battle against the organization's biggest enemy, with no warning beforehand.

"For you, maybe. It's actually been building up for a very, very long time." The blonde girl unbuckles her seatbelt and pulls her knees up to her chin. "I'm surprised it didn't start earlier."

"Explain to me," I begin, taking in a deep breath. "Explain what exactly S.M.A.S.H. does. We kill people, but why? I'm not bothered with it- okay, maybe just a little- but honestly I just want to know. I want to know everything."

Jennifer looks at me, her big blue eyes reflecting my gaze.

"I don't know everything. No one but Master does. Most assume we're a hitman company, which is entirely possible; others think we're a subdivision of the mob, or a government agency. As for the rivals, I don't know either. No one but Master and his brother know anything."

I let out a breath and close my eyes.

* * *

><p>When I open them again the sun is on the verge of rising. Jennifer yawns and gets off of my chest, where she had fallen asleep. Suddenly she freezes as a faint crackle is heard.<p>

"It's starting," I hear Master say. "Attack."


End file.
